


Cross-Canvas Kink

by ElvenSemi



Series: Intercanvas Relations [2]
Category: PTverse, Women of Xal (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, Bondage, F/M, First Time, Multi, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Pet Play, Praise Kink, Smut, a veritable kink rainbow, including but not limited to:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 19:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSemi/pseuds/ElvenSemi
Summary: The title should really tell you literally everything you need to know about this one. It's my goal to perv my way through the entire main cast of Women of Xal. All relationships are second person and human/xulian so read those tags and chapter titles and then dive right in, my friend.





	1. First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This first one is _obnoxiously cute_ and not necessarily 1000% in-line with all I now know about Xulian biology, but I made a few tweaks so it's mostly there. I'm definitely not re-writing it, so you're just going to have to deal with any little inaccuracies you notice (if you're the kind of person to notice those. It might just be me, I might be the only one).

“Are you sure this is okay?” Proxis asks you for perhaps the fifteenth time. You get the feeling that he expects you to find it annoying, but you don’t. Frankly, in this sort of situation, with his cock pushing up against you, you’re kind of glad that he’s giving you yet another chance to change your mind.

–

“I can’t believe you actually saved up that much gold for me,” Proxis says with an easy laugh.

You’ve spent a lot of time sitting next to him over the last few weeks. Well. Xulian weeks. So like, months. But this time, he’s yours the entire night. It wasn’t cheap, and you thought you were going to self-ignite out of sheer embarrassment as you forked over the gold. While pretty much every human ambassador has at least peeked into Lady Xuna’s brothel out of curiosity, there’s more than a little bit of stigma around it still. And none of the others really go there as often as you. You’re getting a bit of a reputation as a whore. Ironically.

You clear your throat, trying to fight the flush on your cheeks. “It w-wasn’t too much…” you lie, pointlessly. Not only can Xulians tell when you do, he knows his own prices. “Well, I mean, it wasn’t too much in the sense that it was a reasonable price for your time, I mean,” you correct quickly. Proxis giggles.

You’ve never before met a man who giggled. Let alone one who was 6'1", could lift an entire bus probably, and was more solid than the average brick wall.

You maaaaaay have fallen in love with an alien prostitute.

…Look. He’s sweet. He asks how you’re doing and remembers details about your life. He’d once listened for ninety minutes while you complained about your father.

Arguably, because you’d… been paying him. But he’s! He’s like a therapist you can cuddle! Sometimes, he kisses your cheek, and his beard tickles just the right amount. Once, you’d asked if you could kiss him, and he looked surprised. Probably surprised you’d asked. And it hadn’t been your first kiss, because that one time in middle school, but it had definitely been your perfect-est kiss.

You come here every ‘day’ like clockwork. That sounds like more of a feat than it is, because Xulian days are 168 hours long. When you’d first arrived, Lady Xuna had somehow been artificially modifying them a 24 hour cycle, or someone’s approximation of it. Twelve hours of solid light followed by twelve hours of solid darkness was only slightly less jarring. But then some genius had clued her in to the concept of sleep masks and ever since, every human had been groggily dealing with 84 hours of solid darkness–and no coffee.

But every day, normally sometime during the night cycle, you stop by. You’re always mildly depressed by about hour sixty of solid night. Missing earth and unable to see well enough to enjoy the whole “wow! alien planet!” thing. Proxis, at first, was like an oasis of light in that never-ending darkness. And so you just kept coming. And then… Well…

It’s probably happened to a lot of people. He’s gorgeous, and sweet, and emotionally available, and can lift you over his head with one hand, and _SERIOUSLY HOW IS HE REAL._

And after a few months of this, you’d decided that it didn’t really matter that he worked a brothel and it didn’t really bother you that you’d never really be anything new or special–save, you suppose, for being a human. Because you’re getting on in years and you’re married to your job, really, and there aren’t a lot of opportunities for love when semi-permanently stationed on an alien planet. And really, you’d never do any better than him.

And so, you’d resolved to purchase his time for a whole night and… Well. You know. Finally take care of that pesky virginity you’ve been holding onto for so long.

And now here you are, just, super naked, underneath an _equally_ nude Xulian who could have been fucking carved from marble for how perfectly chiseled he is, and he’s asking yet again if you’re sure, because he knows you’ve never done anything even close to this before, and that’s just who he is.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, breath hitched, tense in new and unfamiliar ways. “I thought about this for ages.” Frequently. While in your bunk. “Just, um…” You glance down between your bodies, where his dick is sliding against your slit, very much to scale with the rest of him. “Go… slow?”

As if you need to tell him, he’s gentleness personified, but he just smiles and nods and leans down to kiss you and _oH he’s pushing and *_ ah–****

He moves like molasses downhill, slow and steady and all-consuming, kisses against your lips and neck providing a constant distraction to the _stretching_ , dear _lord_ the stretching. And it doesn’t hurt, not quite, maybe because you can’t really imagine him doing anything that could cause pain; it’s just _sensation_. Such a small, centralized thing, really, but you feel it through your whole body, nerves lighting on fire.

“How does that feel?” he murmurs into your ear, breath hot.

“Ngh,” you manage, which you’re sure is very helpful under the circumstances. “Holy shit.” Not much more helpful, really, but he chuckles against your skin and you’re not really sure why that makes your back arch and your hips writhe upwards against him, but it does, driving him deeper into you, and you let out gasping moan. “Ffffffuck,” you groan, fingers digging into the muscles of his back–remarkably solid considering Xulians are in several senses actually hollow, really–NOT THE TIME, SELF.

“That’s the plan,” he agrees, and gives just the littlest thrust of his hips but it feels like fireworks behind your eyes.

“Do that again,” and it’s less an order than a plea, but it works. You’re immediately lost in the slow in and out, what you know damn well to be inches feeling like miles. You’re the one who winds up urging him on, harder, faster, more. Perhaps all the questions encouraged you to be vocal, because you could have never imagined yourself being so demanding, begging so loudly.

You feel like _screaming_ when your climax is finally on you, and you muffle your mouth against his shoulder, arms around his back and even your legs locked around his hips, holding him as deep into you as he can go–which is _remarkably deep_ , in your personal opinion–something to clench down on, someone to buck against. He’s still even after you slump down against the bed, limbs feeling like jello. He catches your lips in another kiss, slow and deep and lingering, until you feel like you might die if he doesn’t start moving again, and you tell him as much.

You don’t have anything to compare it to, not really, but by the end of the night, you have only good things to say about Xulian stamina. He somehow manages to bring you to climax twice more before he finishes, and when he collapses next to you on the bed, he’s breathing heavy–though not nearly as much as you.

“Wow,” he manages between sucking in air–or xala, or whatever. “Xaris was _not_ kidding about human stamina.” And you can’t help but burst out laughing. You roll over and bury yourself against his side, too tired and too happy to be self-conscious about your nudity.

“That’s funny, cause I was thinking something right along the same lines.”

And that was your first time–both of your first times, in a sense. You find out later that you were his first human, something you’d never expected. You like to think that you did humankind proud, although it wasn’t exactly the kind of representing you had been intending on when you took this job. You’d been worried that you’d feel bad about it afterwards, the combination of steep expense and virginity being a recipe for morning-after regrets, but really. You couldn’t have imagined it better.

And besides, it’s not like it’s the last time for either of you.


	2. Praise and Pet Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the most informative chapter names I have ever put on any piece of work ever. This one's Xobi, and he's adorable, an adorable little bore. #XobiDefenseSquad?

It had taken you about three months--by your reckoning, your sense of time was kinda fucked in Xal--to squeak out much real information from Xobi, one of the many popular, attractive men who worked at Lady Xuna's brothel. He had always been more than happy to listen to _you_ talk, or even to tell you the newest gossip he heard from others, but as soon as the conversation turned to him... 

And it was much the same in bed. You'd first hired him because... well, you were curious, and he was so unlike the human men you knew. Polite and well-groomed and soft-spoken. But while his enthusiasm with regards to your own pleasure was _deeply appreciated_ , it had been only a matter of time before you tried to pry out what _he_ liked and, as always, hit a wall. 

But your dedication, perseverance, and downright _stubbornness_ had been rewarded, which is why Xobi is now lounging on the bottom of the bed, cat ears--that you made yourself, out of necessity and determination--on his head, collar with a little bell round his neck. 

Good things come to those who wait, you think to yourself as you consider him as he stretches out, toes curling, readjusting himself as he shifts into a more comfortable position from which to watch the show on your tablet. He still can't read, and has no real interest in learning despite your encouragement, but he really enjoys earth soaps. It had taken you a full night cycle to torrent those episodes on shitty Xulian internet. _Worth it_ , just to watch him stare at the screen with rapt attention, legs shifting idly in the air, seemingly unaware of your eyes on him. 

If anything, the cat ears help him accept that this is something you're willing to pay for. A little bit of kitty dress up, and suddenly watching him enjoy himself is a fetish and he's less uncertain about the whole thing. It's strange to you, a little, but you've come to accept that he's just self-conscious about that sort of thing. You're willing to work within his comfort zone. 

And, you mean, the view _is_ nice. You wonder, idly, if it’d be possible to get one of those buttplugs with the tails. They probably actually already have something like that here. Surely. Surely, in a _brothel._

Xobi seems to finally notice your eyes on him, when the screen fades to black to indicate what would have been a commercial break. He hits the pause button, which is adorable, because it means he’s placing something other than what you might want as important. He doesn’t want to miss anything. Cute. 

“Can I get you anything, my Lady?” He gestures towards your hand, which is cupping a glass of the closest thing Xulians have managed to get to wine. 

Under other circumstances, you might have reminded him to call you something less formal—yet another work in progress—but you don’t actually _dislike_ being called ‘my Lady.’ Or. Other things. And you know you’re already prodding at his boundaries by spending paid time lazing around watching him enjoy soap operas. 

“I don’t want _anything_ that would require you leaving the room,” you purr. 

You can’t do anything close to ‘purr’ under ordinary circumstances. Xobi just has a way of bringing out a certain side of you. 

You’re rewarded by a slight flush on his cheeks, which makes you smile. He’s _too cute_ when he blushes. It makes you want to make him blush more. Idly, you set your drink on a bedstand, uncrossing your legs to sit up a bit more. 

“Are you at a decent stopping place, love? No cliffhangers?” you ask, only a bit teasingly. 

“Even if I was--!” Xobi begins to protest, but you cut him off by leaning forward even more and placing a finger against his lips. 

“It was a yes or no question, sweetheart.” 

“Yes, my Lady,” he says as soon as you pull your finger away. Oooh, he’s so cute! Always so eager to serve, so much so that it makes you nervous in some ways, which is why you’ve taken to playing with him the way you do. Teasing out the things he actually enjoys, hunting down the things he needs. 

“I cannot _stand_ ,” you begin, and his face turns crestfallen at record speed, so you rush quickly on. “How _cute_ you are like this.” You cup his face with one of your hands, and you love the way he leans against it, love the heat of a blush you can feel underneath his skin. It’s probably a complicated, xala-related reaction, but the end result is heat and color, same as it is with you. “I could watch you enjoy yourself all day,” you tell him, and you mean it. You don’t understand how anyone gets any work done when he’s nearby. 

He begins to say something, but you can already tell it’s going to be something painfully subservient—it’s like an automatic reaction for him, every time he thinks he’s enjoying something too much. You place your thumb over his mouth again, quieting him without removing your hand from his cheek. “Nope. It’s kitty time now,” you say with a grin. He doesn’t make a face, because he would never do something so base, you’re sure. But you can see him registering it. “No words unless it’s your safe word or a meow~” you tease. 

He’s yet to ever use the safe word you essentially provided him with, but you don’t really push towards it in any case, because you’re way too scared he never will. He rarely meows, as well, because apparently it is capable of providing him with something so embarrassing he doesn’t actually want to do it unless he _has_ to. But it works well to keep him from self-debasing when you’re in the middle of your favorite hobby. 

“You’re beautiful,” you inform him, shifting forward onto your knees to plant kisses against his jaw, back to his ear. “When you smile, more than ever.” You nip his earlobe, and relish in the sharp inhale. You love making him breathe, gasp, pant, because you know he doesn’t _have_ to. 

You list the things you love about him as you kiss down his neck. The way his eyes close when he smiles or laughs in a genuine way, when he wears those open-chest shirts, _anything_ against his neck, like the collar you're kissing around the edges of. You think his neck was created specifically to have a collar around it, and you tell him as much before flicking at the bell with your spare hand. 

“My L-“ he begins, but you cut him off with that same thumb against his lips again, grinning up at him. 

“That didn’t sound like a meow, Xobi!” you tease, admiring the flush on his cheeks, the little glint of something in his eyes. He gets that look now and then, normally when he’s about to do someth—ah! 

Your own breath catches as he pulls your thumb between his lips, tongue dancing against it. Now it’s your turn to blush. 

“Sneaky!” you gasp, then laugh. “Are you getting a little impatient?” 

He raises a single eyebrow—he can’t answer, of course, you just told him he could do nothing but meow. 

“Catty,” you inform him. “And not just because of the ears.” 

You pull your hand—a little reluctantly—from his face, to begin working on the buttons of his shirt. Your mouth closely follows your hands, murmured praise slipping out between kisses and little nips. After you reach the last button, you pull his shirt off his shoulders, but fall short of pulling it off his arms, leaving him tangled in it. 

Xobi really loves going down on you. You’re pretty sure. Maybe it’s just his comfort zone again, but he seems to relish it so much that you want to think there really is a spark of genuine desire there. Which is why you like making him work for it, a little bit. He’s clearly not used to being on the receiving end, which is why you _love_ insisting upon reciprocation. Because from the noises he makes, you think he probably enjoys it just as much as when he’s using his own tongue. 

You don’t even bother pulling his pants off, yet, you just pull out his cock, delighting in the rigidity, so hard you’d think it might hurt, end dripping ever so slightly with the effects of your teasing. You give it a long, slow lick, from base to head, eyes on his face, taking in the way his eyes slide shut. Your name escapes his lips in a gasp when you flick your tongue over the tip, and the sound is like pleasure exploding in your chest. 

“That wasn’t a meow,” you observe. “But cats are at their cutest when they’re not doing what you asked, let’s be honest… and so are you.” 

You take his full length into your mouth, all at once, and the way he cries out is very much not feline, but is absolutely music to your ears. God above, the _sounds_ he can make, the sounds you can make him make. And you tease a variety out of him, taking your time and using your own best judgment to keep him on the edge of the cliff, but not falling over. You don’t stop until he’s gasping in earnest, pulling your mouth off of him and grinning up from between his legs. You rest your cheek on your hand, elbow against the bed, admiring his expression. 

“Those other ladies really don’t know what they’re missing out on,” you observe. “This is one of your cutest faces yet.” 

“It’s just as well,” he pants, making you pause, head tilting. “I rather like the idea it’s something only you see… my Lady.” 

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing with embarrassed, shocked pleasure at that. You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling a bit dry despite your recent, rather wet activities. It’s rare he catches you off guard like that, and he looks _very_ pleased with himself. “That,” he informs you cheekily, “Is one of your cutest faces yet.” 

Smug is a good look on him, too. 

“Lean back,” you instruct, pushing against his chest and then climbing over him, quickly lining yourself up with his still-rigid length. “And let’s see what other cute expressions we can show each other.”


	3. Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, these chapter names, huh? I swear I'm gonna change them later, like maybe to character names instead, but for now it's just. Just gonna be a long list of kinks, I guess. Xaris this time, and this is the last of the old ones I had done.

Xaris is a luxury few can afford. 

Fortunately, you were well-off before you became an ambassador, and you have a father who's understanding of money is mostly "throw more at the situation until it stops talking." He never seems to question what you're spending it on; he probably just assumes Xal is expensive and that's why you need so much _solid gold._

Shh, no one tell him. 

Today is your birthday, back on earth, so you decided to celebrate. By reserving Xaris for the entire day, which cost frankly a ludicrous amount of gold, a fact you greatly enjoy. You and your father never did get along, the conservative prick. Happy birthday, baby girl, here's enough gold to hire an _alien prostitute for twelve solid hours_! 

He'd asked you what you wanted to do all day, of course, to which you, ever the smart-ass, had replied, "something you've always wanted to do but never gotten to," which for Xaris Rose is like asking for a unicorn. He's really done most things. Asking him for a first was a hell of a birthday present. 

Of course, there are some things that Xulian women tend not to be interested in--or possibly capable of--and that's probably why you're currently tied to the bed, cursing your own wretched smart-assery. 

Xaris' tongue is touching about everything _but_ your clit; you've been on the edge of a cliff for what feels like six years; and you're becoming certain that the thing he's never done is "drawn a single orgasm out for twelve fucking hours, which coincidentally happens to be the amount of time you bought, babe, isn't that lucky!" 

"Xaris, I swear to _GOD_ ," you curse when he pulls away to keep your hips from bucking up against his lips. 

"Yes, y'do," he agrees gamely. "An awful lot. We might have to break out the gag again, at this rate!" 

"Noooo," you groan, both because of what he said and because he's crawling back over your body, kissing up _away_ from your legs, which is _not_ as appreciated as the reverse tends to be. "You suuuuuck!" 

"If you ask nicely, maybe~" 

" _If asking nicely worked, I would have come by now._ " 

"Maybe you just haven't asked nicely enough!" 

"You absolute--mmf!" 

You would normally be much happier about Xaris and the way he kisses, an art in and of itself, and always enjoyable when you can taste yourself on his tongue. But he's kissing you instead of doing _anything else_ and it's been _eighty-seven years_ and you can't even touch yourself because your arms are tied behind your back. Despite that, your eyes slide closed as he works you over, lips and tongue and every now and then, teeth. He doesn't stop until you're gasping and whimpering into the kiss, light-headed and a bit dizzy. 

He pulls back and pauses, as if to admire his handiwork. You're too busy gasping for air and trying to catch something resembling a second wind to come up with anything snappy and biting to say just then, and when he idly reaches down and strokes gently--just once--across your clit, you just about screech with shock and sensation, whole body spasming. You try to arch your back to chase his fingers as they dance back up away from you. 

" _Xaris!_ " you whine. It's not _fair._ He hasn't even taken his clothes off yet! 

"Not yet~" he teases. "It's too early." 

"How long has it _been_?" You've totally lost track of time. It feels like maybe three hours? But it could have been thirty minutes. You have no idea. 

"I'm~ not~ telling~" he says inbetween kisses along your neck. "You'll know when it's been twelve hours... That's what's important, right?" 

"You _cannot_ be planning to do this for _twelve hours._ " 

"Maybe! Maybe not! Are you worried about me~? Don't be!" He rubs his fingers between your legs, pushing into your entrance, thrusting a few times, curling his fingers in just such a way, teasing groans out of you, then pulling them out to show you. "I'll be getting plenty of fluids," he says with a cheeky grin. 

"You don't even need fluids!" you snap, flushing. " _I_ do!" 

"Oh, right," he says, as if he'd forgotten, smiling, then pushes his fingers into your mouth, grin broadening when you recover from your surprise and begin sucking on them, eyes on his. "There we go~" 

\--

You don't know how long it's been. Probably sixty billion years. You're probably stuck in a time loop. 

Progress has been made. Xaris got his dick out, for instance. You, however, are in much the same condition you were an eternity ago, but probably worse. You've idly considered your safeword a few times, but you're determined to out-stubborn Xaris Rose. No matter how much you might regret that determination right now, when you're practically crying with need, your ankles still tied to the bed, arms behind your back meaning your face is getting ground into the pillows as Xaris rides you expertly, cock lighting up your nerves from the inside. 

"Please, please, please," comes unbidden out of your mouth with each thrust, no matter how bad of an idea letting him know how close you are to relief might be. Your legs are cramping a bit with the force of it. You don't really care, you're too lost in your own mind, desperate, hopeful, maybe this time, _maybe this time--_

Your leg cramps up worse, twitching violently against the ropes. Xaris pauses, and you let out an audible sob. 

"Looks like someone needs a break!" Xaris observes, the slight breathy quality to his voice the only indication that this is having any effect on him at all. "And maybe some water and a massage again." 

"I will _pay you_ to just keep fucking me instead," you beg. 

"You're already paying me not to~ 'Something I've always wanted to do, but haven't gotten the chance to,' right?" 

"I'm a fool and an idiot, _please fuck me._ " 

"Aww." Xaris bends over to give you a kiss on the shoulder before pulling out of you and standing. You hear the slight pop of shifting xala as he--presumably--stretches. "Don't think I've ever heard ya self-debase before! You must be dangerously... whaddya call it? Dewatered?" 

"Dehydrated," you groan into the pillow. The frustration isn't exactly lessening the further you back away from an orgasm, but it's at least less of a _screaming agony_. "And no. Probably. How long has it been?" 

"Couldn't say!" 

You let out another irritated noise into the pillow, then shift as you feel the ropes attaching your ankles to the bedposts go slack. You flop down onto the bed, well aware now that your legs are extremely stiff as you try to move them around. Xaris catches one, then pins it to the bed before beginning to massage the back of your thigh. You let out a happy sound despite yourself. Xaris is very good with his hands, and you had been subject to a lot of practice when he'd been learning how humans liked to be massaged. The concept of bones and muscles and nerves had been an alien one, but he was nothing if not an enthusiastic study. 

"Twelve hours is _unreasonable_ for a human, Xaris," you complain into the sheets. 

"I'll say. Most Xulian women would have busted right out of those ropes and accosted me two hours ago." Two hours. It's been at least two hours. "Buyer's regret?" Xaris inquires as he shifts to the other leg. You let out a sigh of relief. God, but that does feel good. 

"Buyer's sexual frustration. But also I want to make sure you're aware of human limits." 

Xaris bends to give you a kiss on the lips. "I did a lot of readin' before this," he assures you. "Dr. Joy is very aware of what yer doin' for yer birthday, for instance. Probably Lady Xuna, too, given that she figured out how ta view the browser history ages ago." 

"Oh. Wonderful. I'm ecstatic," you say dryly, cheeks burning with the idea of Lady Xuna idly scrolling through page after page on orgasm denial and long-term bondage in her history. This brothel really needs more fucking computers. 

"And you've got yer word," he reminds you with another kiss. "You say it and we can spend the next... however-many hours seein' how many orgasms you can have before yer kickin' me in the head to get me off." 

He's teasing, but a little full-body shudder races through you. He probably has no idea how goddamn appealing that is right now. You wind up seriously considering it more than you thought you would, then narrow your eyes at him. 

"Xaris Rose, I am more stubborn than you are," you declare boldly. 

"Yep!" he says cheerfully, shifting up on the bed and then pulling you upright by the ropes still on your arms. "Which is why I'm guaranteed such a fun time today!" 

\--

You thought you were finally in luck when Xaris rolled over and let you climb on top of him. Riding is actually really difficult with your arms tied; you wouldn't have really thought so, but your thighs are screaming at you. You, however, are also more stubborn than your exhausted muscles, pouring mana into them and riding for all you're goddamn worth. This is it. Surely. He can't stop when _you're_ on top. 

You're probably loud enough to bring the roof damn as you approach what you're certain will be the final peak on this absolutely _insane_ roller coaster. There's a non-zero chance one or both of you will be bruised after this, as hard as your slamming your hips down against his, unable to even form words as you-- al... most... 

Which, _**of course**_ , is when Xaris grips your hips. You don't expect it, despite the fact that you absolutely should have. You still try to thrust, mana-fueled muscles straining against his grip, which only tightens. A rare demonstration of just how much stronger he is than you, when he wants to be. You would appreciate it more in literally any other circumstances. Broken, you flop down against him, before you remember that you're hardly helpless, even if you're unreasonably determined to play along with his damn game. His grip still firmly on your hips, he has no real way to stop you as you sink teeth into his neck. Not hard enough to break the skin, obviously, but harder than is even slightly necessary for a bite to the neck. He lets out a yelp, hips thrusting against yours automatically as his whole body twitches. You bite again, further down, less hard, and he groans, hips thrusting again. Yes! 

He lets go of your hips with one hand to tangle into your hair roughly, pulling you back away from his neck. "Don't humans having a sayin' about bitin' the hand that feeds?" he groans out, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch inside you. 

"That wasn't your hand, and you haven't been feeding me enough," you pant, taking advantage of the lack of grip on your hips to squirm and grind against him. 

He lets out another groan, then flips you in one fluid motion, rolling over you on the bed. It's a bit clumsy and a little rough, which is probably a good sign. You wrap your legs around him, worried he intends to pull out again, but instead, he begins thrusting, slamming into you with nearly as much force as you'd been riding him a few minutes ago. You cry out, head falling back onto the pillows, and nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast circles around it. 

"Xaris, please, please, please, _please_ ," you beg, until words leave you entirely and all you can process is pressure, a wave that's curled but never crashes, and you think your body might snap in two if you don't-- 

You're not even aware of how loud you're screaming until Xaris slams a hand over your mouth to muffle you, hips still thrusting, as the wave finally crashes. Your whole body is on fire, body writhing uncontrollably against him, but he doesn't stop, just keeps going, riding you hard until your body finally, finally goes limp across the bed, mind utterly blank with the force of your orgasm. 

You barely process the fact your arms have been untied until you register Xaris firmly rubbing the pins and needles out of them. He must have had to physically roll you onto your side; you feel utterly incapable of moving even a single muscle. 

"I thought yer mana was gonna knock me the fuck out," he murmurs into your ear, and a laugh barks out of you, unexpectedly. That feeling brings you somewhat back to reality. 

"I thought _I_ was gonna knock you the fuck out." 

"Was it worth it?" 

"...Was that _twelve hours_?" 

"Nah. Just a bit over six." 

"Jesus fucking christ." 

"Ya didn't answer my question," he points out as he kisses against the back of your neck, still rubbing your arms. 

"Yes, it was. If you ever do that again, I'm going to cancel halfway through and go to Proxis. He would _never._ " 

Xaris chokes on laughter, and you grin, finally rolling over of your own volition, planting a kiss on his lips. 

"So... we still have six hours left?" 

"Sure do!" he says cheerfully. 

"What was it you said... something about how many orgasms I can have?" 

"Kinda thought you might want a nap." 

"Nope," you say, pushing him over onto his back. 

"What if I want a nap?" he protests with a cheeky, fake pout. 

"In that case," you say as you lift your aching legs over him, hoisting yourself above his face. "I believe we have a safeword." 

There's a pause, and then he chuckles. "I'm more stubborn than you," he announces against your skin, then cuts off your response with his tongue on your clit, direct and forceful and a promise of an equally wild ride for the rest of the day.


End file.
